Blood Oath
by Kaia Mariacle
Summary: AU; It’s not easy being Lena. warning: slash


Title: Blood Oath

Author: Kaia Mariacle

Disclaimer: They're not mine. No, seriously, they belong to Warner Bros. and Gough Miller Inc, who blatantly abuse my Lexy-poo *way* too much. And don't allow enough shirtless!Lex scenes.

Pairing(s): Clex, other

Rating: R

Challenge: title, Deep Space Nine: Blood Oath

Summary: It's not easy being Lena. (Written for the Clex FihQ Festival's Sixth Wave) 

Author's Notes: I really thought I was going up on the Wall of Shame. I must have started at least four different stories, with four completely different plots, before this came to me. I absolutely adore Lena Luthor in most stories, so I thought, "Hey, why not write her myself?" The title is more metaphorical than anything else. I did start a story where Clark and Lex actually take a blood oath, but it kind of went sour, so I trashed it. 

Dedications: To the magnanimous Alex, who came through at the last minute and did a quick beta for me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You took her *there*?!"

"Yes, I did, because she has a right to know where she comes from!" 

"You know how I feel about that!" Crash. "You know that we discuss things like this beforehand, instead of gallivanting across the fuckin' country!" 

Lena Kent-Luthor sighed, blinked back tears and wondered if her life could get any worse as she eyed her parents from the kitchen table.

"Lex, I told you I was going to do it!" 

"When?"

"When?!" Loud crash. "WHEN?!

"Dammit, Clark, do you have to-"

"Yes!" She winced a little as her dad's voice heightened to a shrill pitch. "For Christ's sake, Lex, you're always so busy that you don't even remember life-altering conversations we have!" 

"*Life*-Altering? " The wince became more pronounced as her papa's voice grew calm. She closed her eyes as his tone became even more icy. "Life-altering is the day you told me you loved me. Life-altering is when you finally confessed your dark secret. Life-altering is when you told me we were going to have a daughter." Here it comes. "It's not when you tell me you're taking Lena off to the Antarctic to share your fucked up history with her!" 

The room was tense, and Lena could feel the anger and hurt from both her parents. 

"I'm sorry you feel that my past isn't important enough to share with our daughter, Lex." Her dad swallowed, and turned towards her, completely missing Lex's remorseful glance. 

She saw the same smile he wore after every visit pasted on his face, as he moved to embrace her tightly. 

"Lena, baby, I'll see you next week." 

"Okay, Dad." She said, managing a smile. "I love you.

"Love you too." He answered, running a hand through her hair. He smiled softly, and moved to pick up his briefcase. 

He didn't bother to spare his ex-husband a glance. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As she lay in bed that night, staring at the poster of Canes Venatici on her ceiling, she wondered what had happened to her life. 

From the moment she was born to the time she was eleven, Lena's parents had been crazy about each other. Head over heels in love, googly-eyed in love. She'd thought it was the way all parents acted until she met her best friend in the fourth grade, and found that what her parents had was very much on the other side of the norm. 

From the few fights she could remember, and boy had they been doozies, she could also remember that afterward Dad would come home with a single rose and a contrite grin. And Papa would come through the door with a huge, bouquet of flowers and apologetic eyes. (Papa has a room full of the flowers. But now they were dried and dead. Withered.)

They'd been blissful, and they'd shared all that live with her. Kissing scraped knees, and fixing her hair in the morning. Her Papa still liked to braid her hair, because he said it reminded him of his mother.

She'd seen pictures of her late Grandmother, with brassy, red hair, but she always secretly thought her's was more like Martha's. A deep, rich red that she'd hated passionately when she'd been young.

Dad had a way of running his fingers through her hair, soothing and sweet at the same time. He used to run his hands over Papa's head, caressing the smooth plate, kissing it softly sometimes. (He hasn't done that in years.)

She can't remember when they started arguing, just that it was slow and painful.

Dad started patrolling more, and Papa started coming home later and later from the office. She thinks that maybe the last straw was when her Papa set up a quiet, romantic dinner one night, and Dad never showed. 

They broke most of the windows in the house that night, and they'd forgotten that their twelve year old daughter was upstairs in her bedroom. 

She knew it was serious then.

When she woke up the next morning, Dad was gone, and Papa sat at the kitchen table drinking cold coffee, and staring at the newspaper, unblinking.

She can remember crying and screaming at Papa, blaming him. Telling him that it was his fault Dad left. 

And she can remember stopping when she saw the look of fierce grief in his eyes. 

There wasn't a big court battle for custody, because both her parents loved her too much for that. There was just the quiet acceptance in her parents eyes when they sat on the couch, and talked about who'd have her when, and what holidays they'd each get. (Thanksgiving with Papa, and Christmas with Dad. They switched off each year after.)

She has two different bedrooms, two different bathrooms, and two different parents now. There's no more hugging and kissing, and tucking her into bed at night. (Even if she is fifteen, and somewhat of a grown-up, she still wished sometimes, that they'd tell her a bedtime story.)

No more laughing, and finishing each other's sentences. 

Smiling softly and tenderly at each other.

She wishes that Dad had realized what he was doing to Papa when he went off every night, saving the world instead of his marriage. 

And she wishes that Papa knew that Dad cried every night, when he thought she was asleep. Wishes he knew what Dad had been doing to himself back then. Was still doing to himself now.

She's sick of all the fighting and the hoping that maybe someday they'll both realize that they never stopped loving each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her grandma's kitchen always smells like apple pie. It's small and homey, with a simple grace that nothing in Lionel's mansion can compare to.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Her grandma's voice is low and cautious, but warm, always so warm. 

Lena stared down into her mug of hot chocolate. "They were fighting again." 

Her grandma sighed, and brushed a lock of hair back from Lena's face. "What happened?"

"Dad brought me to the Fortress yesterday, and Papa freaked out." 

She watched her grandma look away, and when she turned back, Lena could see the tears she was trying to blink back. 

"He introduced you to your grandparents?" 

Lena shook her head, "No, I already know my grandparents." She answered, frowning. "He introduced me to Jor-El and Lara. I didn't like them much, and I don't think Dad does either, but he said he wanted me to know my past, because when he was my age, he never got the chance. " Her eyes flashed. "I don't understand why he's so bent on me knowing, and I don't understand why Papa gets so angry when Dad talks about it."

Her grandma smiled slightly, albeit a bot regretfully. "Lena, honey, you've got to understand that when your father was your age, there was no Superman, and he didn't have any answers to his questions." She sighed. "He just doesn't want you to have to go through the same thing." 

Lena nodded slowly, "But I still don't understand why Papa gets so mad about it." 

"Your Papa is a very complicated man, but what it comes down to, is that he doesn't want you to have to go through the same thing he watched your Dad go through over the years."

"But that's stupid, if they sat down and talked about it, then maybe they'd stop putting me in the middle."

"They don't mean it, Lena." her grandma said carefully. "Adults aren't perfect, even we have our faults." 

Lena snorted, "Tell me about it." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

School let out early the next day, and she dropped her purse on the porch as she tried to find her keys.

Her slightly-heightened hearing picked up a small sound from inside the house, and she frowned in confusion. No one was supposed to be home right now, and she knew her dad had said he had a meeting this afternoon.

She strained her ears, and pressed the side of her head against the door.

Then she gasped.

The moan was low and deep and male.

And familiar.

The soft whisper of "I love you" moments later made her heart speed up, and her eyes fill. She let out another gasp, and knelt down to pick up her purse before turning back to the sidewalk, and making her way down the street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lena woke up the next morning, heart in throat, and she felt as if she was floating when she made her way downstairs. 

Lex sat at the table, newspaper open and coffee cup half-empty. 

"So, Papa, did you know that school let out early yesterday?" 

She watched as he set his coffee down slowly, and closed the paper. He crossed his arms, and stared at her.

She grinned, and took a sip of her tea. "I came home around oh, about twelve-thirty, and heard some interesting sounds coming from inside the house." She paused, and stared up at her father. "Sounded kind of like a kid's worst nightmare -listening to her parents have sex."

She expected a big grin and a flush.

But he just stared at her, unmoving, and looked away. "Lena, what you heard-"

"No, no." She shook her head, and scrambled out of the chair. "No, Papa, I heard you and Dad!" She cried. "You were together, and happy, I *heard* you!" 

He stood, "Honey, what you heard was just a...just a moment of-"

"NO!" She shouted, backing out of the room, "NO!" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late when Superman flew into her bedroom.

He swirled in a blur of movement, and he was in sweats and a t-shirt. Her Dad sat on the side of her bed, and leaned over to brush softly at her hair.

She sat up, and swiped at her eyes.

"Your father called me." he said softly.

She stared up into his concerned, blue eyes, and burst into tears. He shushed her, stroked her back, and let her cry it out. 

Then he pulled back, and smiled sadly. 

"Sometimes, Lena, people do thing without thinking of the consequences." he sighed. "Your father and I are no exception. He told me that you heard....some things....and misinterpreted them." 

Lena shook her head, "I didn't misinterpret anything, Dad, I heard you say his name. I heard you say you loved him." 

His eyes softened, and he got a faraway look in his eyes. "I do love your father, Lena, but it's different now." He whispered. "*We're* different now, but...we should have thought of you before we let anything like that happen." 

"But....but why would you guys do that if you didn't want to be together again?" She sniffled, and lay in her head on his shoulder. "Why can't you come home?" 

"It's complicated, baby." he whispered against his hair. "It's very complicated."

She closed her eyes, breathed in his comforting scent, and wished her papa was there with them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lena Kent-Luthor was twelve years old when her parents got divorced.

Fifteen when she saw all the hopes she had of her parents ever getting back together fly away.

And she was seventeen when she met the love of her life. 

He was perfect and beautiful and all she could ever want, but like everything else in her life, he had one, tragic flaw.

He was ten years her senior.

And like any concerned parent would do, her's forbid her to see him. 

Now, hiding things from your parents when you're a normal teen is hard enough. But Lena had to deal with a Superhuman dad, and a rich, obsessively protective papa. 

Not to mention the thick-headed love of her life, who insisted that she was too young for him, who tried to keep her at arms length because he said being with her made him feel like a dirty, perverted old man. 

So, like her dad had done so many years ago, she followed him closely (she refused to call it stalking, because someone with Luthor in their blood would never do anything so undignified) professed her undying love for him every chance she got, and squealed in glee when he finally broke down.

She was eighteen the first time she had sex.

It was no surprise to her when she walked in the door the morning after her birthday party, and found both her parents sitting on the couch, glaring at her.

Later, she trudged up the stairs, the scathing lecture they'd tortured her with burning in her ears.

When she came back down to get a glass of water, she stopped short at the sight of her parents asleep on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms.

The same thing happened a lot over the next few months, and she noticed that her dad had started leaving more and more things at the house.

A pair of shoes here, and a book there, until one day on a visit home from school, she pulled up to the house, and saw a moving truck parked out front.

She walked into the kitchen, and found her dad smoothing his hands over her papa's head. He pressed a soft kiss to the back, and Papa sighed. 

They both started when they saw her standing there.

She'd known this was coming. The signs had been there for months, but she'd waited for her parents to tell her themselves. To sit her down and explain that they were getting back together, after all the years of pining for one another..

Instead they stare at her in horror, and her aad started stammering, and even her papa looked flushed. 

"Lena, we were going to-" "Baby,there's a explanation for-" "I know that you deserved more than-"

She waved her hand and walked up to them, wrapping an arm around each. "Guys," She said, looking up into the glowing happy faces up her parents. "It's okay, you don't have to explain." 

Her dad flushed bright red, and groaned, "We were going to tell you tomorrow."

She shook her head, and started giggling. 

"It's okay." 

Her papa raised his eyebrows in question, and she felt their hands entwine behind her back.

She smiled, and answered his unasked question.

"It's complicated, I know." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five years later, Lena Kent-Luthor became Lena Kent-Luthor-Grayson. 

She swore at her parents as they walked her down the aisle, cursing them for already sticking her with two last names. Swearing that she was going to just call herself Lena Smith one day.

They smiled happily, if a little bit mistily, at her when they handed her off to her soon-to-be husband.

Hours later, her Papa gave a speech that made almost everyone at the reception shed a tear.

He ragged on Dick a little, but she knew that hidden in his words was joy. Happiness that his daughter had found someone she loved as much as he loved her dad. 

He said he loved her, he said he'd always loved her, and that he was so proud of her, and the woman she'd turned out to be. He said that he'd thought with his blood running through her veins, she'd have turned out to be a very different person, 

Then he smiled a little, and looked over at her dad, and said that sometimes he forgot there was Kent blood in there too. Then he smiled, and thanked him for giving the world such a beautiful gift.

Hours later, when she was dancing with her husband, she looked over his shoulder, and smiled tenderly at her parents.

Watched them dance, lost in each other even after all the years of pain and heartache.

Memories flooded her, and she thought back to the days when they couldn't even be in the same room together. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't been there. If they hadn't had her to connect them, to bring them back together.

Then Dick pressed a kiss against the side of her neck, and she sighed.

Her parents were blissfully happy, and she had the most wonderful man in the world in her arms.

For once in her life, Lena didn't have to hope any more.

She had everything she'd ever wanted.

~Finis~


End file.
